


Ugly Inside

by I_am_a_Ruin



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Blood and Injury, Cutting, Depression, Hospitalization, Langst, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, Triggers, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, tourniquets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2019-10-06 15:41:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17347934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_am_a_Ruin/pseuds/I_am_a_Ruin
Summary: “God, I want to die.”Ice was taking over his blood while fire erupted across the top of his skin. He said that out loud.Except Pidge was actually smiling and Keith was agreeing and Shiro who never had time for his lame jokes was making his own suicidal joke building off Lance’s comment.





	1. Long Way Down

**Author's Note:**

> Don't expect good writing. I'm trying to force myself out of writer's block long enough to channel my emotions into Lance. This isn't supposed to romanticize poor mental health but is a little bit like what my life has been like so far and I just really don't have the energy to make sure this doesn't totally romanticize this shit so please just be careful if you're going to read. It's coming from a very dark place and frankly I don't know how in character anyone is and that ending is very bad.  
> Thank you to the lovely bean that puts up with my bad grammar and lack of punctuation long enough to edit this stuff into something readable. You're a total doll @Carmailo. Go read her stuff, it's so gooood!>  
> Chapter title is from the song Long Way Down by Robert DeLong.  
> Just take care of yourselves guys please.

-Lance-

Music was so therapeutic but it could only do so much good for him. It used to do more, back when instruments allowed him to shove his feelings into their strings, producing melodies that could express what he was always so shitty at explaining. Lately everything he played wasn’t good enough, just made it all worse. Because now he had a turmoil of intense emotions brewing a hot storm in his belly with no escape  _ and  _ he was a failure. 

Lance’s hands were so shaky now. 

No one noticed. To be fair, he didn’t let them.

College was everything he needed and also the worst thing to ever happen to him. Being alone all the fucking time and a roommate that didn’t know better than to let him sleep during the day and skip classes… He missed Hunk fiercely. Lance was just grateful he never bothered Hunk with the worst of his depressive spells when they did meet, because Hunk had his own problems.

Hunk, whose family never really had enough money, had gotten all the best grades in school and now excelled at his college but he just couldn’t afford to keep going. Lance could see it was tearing his friend apart. Hunk didn’t deserve to be weighted down with Lance’s bullshit when Hunk had real life problems and words to express them. 

Art classes were therapeutic until he stopped going. His professors actually liked him, which was wild since he was self taught and the idea of pursuing art had been a newer one. It was supposed to soothe all of his insecurities but instead just bred some hybrid of Imposter Syndrome. He just kept waiting for his professors to realize his art was actually ten times shittier than he was and they kept complimenting him and trying to make him better - which was their job - except he felt worthless for fooling them.

Art classes also gave him excuses to have things he wanted. Some of those were thrilling like throwing money at expensive paper and paints. Others were dangerous and frankly ended up being entirely unnecessary in class. And he still found himself using them more often than his class supplies. 

Like his paper cutter. 

His very sharp paper cutter. Suddenly he was upgraded from tiny-cat-scratches that were the only reward from hours of struggling to crack a razor enough to bend the blade and press the thin metal into his thighs to… ease and lots of blood. 

He kept telling himself he would stop. And then one day he stopped caring about stopping and more about doing anything to calm his shakiness because nothing else helped. Went from working towards recovery towards…. This mess. 

At least he started making friends at his school. Pidge and Keith and Shiro were all really amazing. It was just a shame that he could literally feel in his soul and see on their faces how much he annoyed them. Not that he blamed them. Lance was loud and boisterous, full of constant energy because no one needed to worry about him and his non-issues. 

So he kept his headphones in his ears when the noise in his head took over and wore jackets, long jeans, and socks to hide his mutilated skin. 

Music was only so therapeutic because after a point it just helped him dwell in this tidal wave of self-loathing. 

****

He had projects due soon and he really needed to get them done because he kept skipping his classes. At this rate he wasn’t going to pass and he was having such a hard time actually giving a shit. If he was honest, the only reason he was trying was because Shiro, Pidge, and Keith were very academically based. Hanging out with them was almost always a study session.

God, he was so fucking tired and the white screen of his stupid blank doc was burning his retinas. He could hear the clacking of Pidge’s keys as she furiously tried to keep her essay under the word limit and he hated her for having words he never knew how to use. Two entire languages stored in his brain and he was still incapable of communication. 

_ Useless _

His restlessness only worsened the situation because every time he shifted in his chair, his jeans drew tight over the tops of his thighs and Lance could just feel the pull on his poorly healed cuts drawing his attention. He kept expecting to see blood soaking through his clothes finally and his friends realizing just how pathetic he really was.

_ Won’t ever happen because you’re too chickenshit to cut deep enough. Worthless. You need to go deeper next time deserve deeper, more pain or you’ll never be good enough _

“Lance, I swear to God, if you click that fucking pen one more time I will shove it up your ass.” Pidge was glaring at him through her glasses and a haze of the caffeine high she was on to power through the day. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled, setting the pen down. He knew she didn’t mean it, didn’t mean to be cruel. She just didn’t have tolerance for distractions, especially when she was close to a breakthrough. 

_ Of course she means it. You know exactly what she’s thinking because you think it about yourself every day. You’re annoying, she hates you and wished she never introduced you to the others. Fuck you.  _

He was never going to get this stupid paper done. English was his easiest class too. Just a couple of essays for the whole semester and a portfolio review of their progress at the end of the semester. A breeze. Except Lance couldn’t  _ focus  _ because there was so much energy buzzing in his veins demanding attention and he was so tired of existing and being so alone and-

_ “God,  _ I want to die.” 

His blood chilled to ice while fire erupted across the top of his skin. He said that out loud. Fuck. Nononononononononononnonononoono what would they  _ do _ . Hunk was going to-

Except Pidge was actually smiling and Keith was agreeing and  _ Shiro  _ who never had time for his lame jokes was making his own suicidal joke building off Lance’s comment. 

And Hunk wasn’t there.

Lance stopped panicking after that, didn’t mind making serious comments about his declining mental health because they’d be brushed off as another one of his witty lines. 

Oh that Lance. He’s such clown.

It was nice having a group of friends that made the same self-deprecating jokes he did. Sure it stung imagining Prodigy Pidge, Valedictorian Keith, and Golden Boy Shiro ever possibly feeling worthless because if they felt low with all that talent than Lance must be scum. But he already knew that so. Guess it didn’t hurt too bad.

It was nice that they weren’t Hunk. Hunk was his absolute best friend in the entire galaxy, but Hunk was with him through high school. Back when things were still going pretty okay for the Garrett family and Lance had given up on the possibility of happiness altogether. 

Hunk remembered finding out Lance would occasionally use a mottled razor to feel something other than numb. Hunk remembered Lance barely scraping good enough grades through junior year to proceed. Hunk remembered Lance giving up senior year with a bunch pills and crying to him three days later about how sorry he was and how grateful he was to be alive and in good health. 

Lance’s parents never found out so Hunk spent way too much time trying to keep Lance from going back into the deep end. Hunk cracked under the pressure, especially once his father died. So Lance learned to take care of himself so Hunk could manage his own life. Therapy and meds that actually helped got him the rest of the way through senior year and actual graduation. 

And then he was at college with a shitty therapist, stopped taking his meds, and no Hunk because Hunk thought Lance was better because Hunk needed to. 

His new friends wouldn’t question him. It was relieving. 

Too bad comedy couldn’t cure suicidal ideation.

It had been just as impulsive as the last attempt. Lance always was a foolishly impulsive person. He was reeling in Shiro’s bathroom from a bad fight he’d just had with Keith. 

The two of them got on like water and oil. Most days, Lance actually enjoyed their bickering. There was a certain thrill that came from getting under Keith’s skin. Watching Keith’s eyes light up with fury as the boy made his own cutting remarks. Too bad Lance had never known how to measure the mood of a person. Today had been a bad day to pick a fight because Keith was stressed over finals. Maybe Lance just hadn’t cared. Whatever - it led to Keith reminding Lance that he was going to fail his classes for being so goddamn lazy. 

And Lance managed to wind up in the bathroom mid-panic attack when he spotted it. One of Keith’s blades (Lance never understood the obsession).

His brain had been going there for months again and he just wanted to finally be done with everything. To stop being a burden for Hunk, a steady drain on his parents’ finances, and a constant nuisance to his new friends. Everyone wanted him gone and he could do them that favor.

He wanted to be gone too.

Lance pulled the sharp edge vertically as hard as he could from the inside of his elbow to the start of his palm and promptly dropped the knife. It startled him just how badly everything burned and ached and screamed. Cutting hadn’t hurt like this in so long, hadn’t been so consuming. His brain couldn’t decide if it was good or bad because he was too busy collapsing next to the blade and feeling cold tile through his jeans. 

The buzz in his head replaced the droning voice constantly belittling him, like a cat purring in satisfaction. 

Lance was finally getting what he deserved. 

His heart was beating so fast though, like it was trying to keep up with all the blood loss. It was so much blood. Maybe that’s why Shiro was looking at him so distraught. Was 

Going to be…

    bitch to clean

 


	2. Hold On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftermath of Lance's attempt at Shiro's apartment
> 
> Lots of POV changes so be looking out for that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been working on this for... months? I tend to overthink/analyze especially when I'm writing such sensitive content like this. How much of myself can I put in without hurting other people (a great example of that failure is 13 Reasons, obviously). I don't want to be thirteen reasons. So it took me a really long time to stop getting in my head and actually just finish this. To be honest I don't know if it's really finished yet. But this is what I have and I'm done holding on to it. I hope you guys like it. I apologize if the story is inaccurate to real-life hospitals. I've never been to the hospital for this specific kind of treatment and can only replicate my own knowledge and research. Please don't use this story as a guide of what to expect.  
> Trigger Warnings: read the tags. This deals with suicide and people's reactions to it. Lance doesn't wake up immediately regretting his actions either so just. Read with caution, please.

-Shiro-

Shiro shot Keith another look and the more time passed, the guiltier Keith became. Normally, Shiro preferred to give people time to work through matters on their own and come to him when they were ready, but the expression on Lance’s face when he’d walked out… He couldn’t let that sit for too long. 

Pidge kept shifting awkwardly, eyes never leaving the paper she had been working on for the last two hours. Except she wasn’t typing because she had finished thirty minutes ago, but ever since Lance had stormed out… She had never been particularly apt with emotions. 

Everyone’s tension levels had been particularly high this week what with finals just around the corner. Shiro was pretty sure Lance had just been trying to lighten the mood, but picking on Keith had been the wrong call. And Lance was the new one to their group, the outsider, so no one really knew how to back him up in this; the others knew not to prod Keith when he was in a mood. 

Shiro just couldn’t get Lance’s face out of his mind. Normally, Lance got heated when he and Keith bickered, fought back and didn’t let others push him around. When Keith said those words, Lance just took it with a hung head. His nose had been scrunched up and he wouldn’t meet anyone’s eyes but… He just looked so distant. Shut down.

 It had been too long. Right?

He glanced again at his friends, mostly hoping Keith would get up and go apologize, but he knew better. It was going to be Shiro’s job. 

Shiro’s apartment was fairly small with very thin walls. The bathroom was just down the hall from the cramped kitchen they’d been working with. Shiro had barely entered the hall before he heard a loud thud. Even if the walls weren’t thin, he suspected he would have heard it. The downstairs neighbors were probably staring up at the ceiling wondering what that noise was. Shiro was too busy rapping a little too hard on the door and hoping Lance would answer; he just slipped or knocked something heavy off the counter. Except Shiro didn’t have anything heavy enough to make that sound and there had been no cry of pain. And Lance wasn’t answering at all.

A chill settled under his skin, prickling at the base of his spine. Not again, this wasn’t happening again. Fear that the door was locked had him stumbling into the room and he almost slipped on the blood. 

Blood, so much  _ blood and Shiro couldn’t breathe Oh God- _

He gripped the countertop hard, gaze drifting over the splattered droplets there and tracking them to the body before him. 

_ Blonde curls, broken glass over the tile, he should have known, He never drank that much, a rainbow of pills scattered in the sink- _

Not Adam, this wasn’t Adam. Shiro wasn’t going to lose someone else. Lance was still breathing, he had heard the boy fall. Shiro could do something. He fell to his knees, forcing his hand to steady as he pressed firmly against Lance’s carotid artery. He had a pulse but it was too rapid.

“Somebody calls 9-1-1!” Shiro shouted as loud as he could and moved closer to Lance’s face. “Hey, buddy. Talk to me please.”

Lance’s eyelashes barely fluttered. Shiro’s hands moved to Lance’s face to turn his head to check for any kind of impact from his fall. 

“Come on, Lance. Just say something. Can you say your name for me?” Shiro tried again, moving to check Lance’s arms. He swore immediately at the sight of bright red blood spurting from his left forearm. He’d definitely gotten his artery and with the amount of blood, Shiro was seeing they didn’t have much time. 

Lance wasn’t responding, which was bad, but he had more pressing concerns. He had to stop this bleeding. Swiping the closest hand towel, he pressed it down against the injury and slowly raised the arm up above Lance’s chest while searching the room for something to tie a tourniquet. Nothing was strong or long enough so Shiro pulled off his belt and cinched it around the first arm above the elbow. 

“Shiro, what’s happening? Why is Pidge calling nine…” Keith cut off with a choked, awful noise. “What the  _ hell?  _ Oh my God, what the fuck!” Shiro wanted more than anything to say something calming and helpful but there wasn’t a way to explain this and right now his priority was keeping Lance alive. He checked behind him while Shiro moved his hands back to Lance’s arm to continue applying pressure to the area and keep it elevated while his eyes checked for signs of breathing. It seemed shallow but regular and, right now, Shiro was going to take it.

 “I need you to tell Pidge that it’s a suicide attempt, we managed to stop the bleeding but he definitely has an arterial bleed, okay?” Shiro explained. Keith nodded slowly, eyes glued to Lance’s face (Shiro couldn’t look at the kid’s face, he couldn’t) and left to do as Shiro asked.

“-stopped the… bleed- the bleeding… Uh, I don’t, I can’t-” Shiro heard Pidge saying and he looked over his shoulder again to see her entering the doorway. Her face was ashen and the moment she saw Lance her hand started trembling fiercely and she had to take several deep breaths.

“He’s still breathing, but he’s unresponsive. I don’t think he hit his head, but I’m not sure,” Shiro explained, waiting as she relayed the information. Pidge nodded slowly, listening to the operator give further instructions and informing her that an ambulance was on the way. Her hand was so tight on the phone and the only thing Shiro could do right now was keep that pressure on the wound. Couldn’t think about who was under him right now or of comforting words. It was all he could do to not lose it.

 

-Keith-

“I just… I don’t understand,” Pidge said, shaking her head. 

Shiro went through it again, how he’d found Lance, how Lance had used one of Keith’s blades. It still didn’t make sense and, honestly, Keith could barely focus on Shiro’s story anyway. He should be trying to comfort his friend; Keith knew better than anyone how hard this must be on Shiro. However, all he could think was how this was his fault. 

He’d been the one that couldn’t control his temper and said something cruel.

He was the one that carelessly left very dangerous sharp objects just  _ lying  _ around for anyone to mess within his shared apartment with Shiro.

He didn’t notice the signs and there were so many signs.

He’d been completely useless during the entire event, just staring at Lance.

God, Lance’s face had been so pale and abnormally slack. 

People Keith loved died all the time. First his mother, then his father, pets, close friends had tragic accidents… But he’d never seen anyone die in front of him like that. He couldn’t understand how anyone could think it resembled sleeping. Sleeping was peaceful and healing. It didn’t burn itself to the back of your eyelids and haunt every single thought.

Pidge shook her head again, cutting Shiro off midway through his recounting. “No. I don’t understand  _ why…” _

“He’s been making comments for  _ months  _ about wanting to die. We’re so  _ stupid,”  _ Keith hissed, grinding his palms against his eyes, “so fucking stupid.”

“This isn’t…” Shiro started, voice faltering part of the way through. “It’s not our fault.”

Keith bit his tongue to keep from saying anything else that would cut someone down. He could hardly look at Shiro, knowing he’d see all that pain in his eyes. Shiro still woke up with nightmares sometimes, screaming for someone to stay that wasn’t coming back.

Pidge looked down at the suddenly buzzing phone in her hands and her face fell. “Guys, Lance’s emergency contact is calling back…”

Keith bit his lip. The least he could do was handle this. “Give it here.”

Pidge and Shiro looked a bit surprised, but they let him take the call. Keith stared at the name for a minute, wondering what this person’s relation to Lance was. Couldn’t be a parent. Maybe a significant other? 

“Hey, buddy! What’s up?” A cheerful voice said. “Lance?”

“Hello, um,” Keith glanced down at his friends before deciding to walk out of hearing range from them. “I’m Keith.”

“Hey, Keith!”

“I… I don’t know your name, I’m sorry.” Keith faltered after a moment. He was delaying and he knew it.

“I’m Hunk. Lance never puts people’s actual names in his phone,” Hunk chuckled. “Am I still Teddy Bear?”

“Yeah,” Keith said absently. How was he supposed to tell this guy that his friend was dead?

“Hold on, why do you have Lance’s phone? Did he not ask you to call me?” Hunk seemed serious now.

“Uh, Lance… he…” Keith trailed off.

“Is everything okay?” Hunk prompted when Keith didn’t continue.

Keith took a deep breath, steeling his nerves, “Lance tried to kill himself earlier today. We’re at the hospital right now. I don’t… we don’t know… yet.”

Hunk didn’t respond but Keith could hear his breathing go odd. 

“I’m… really sorry. We can call you with updates?” Keith offered. 

“What hospital are you at?” Hunk asked voice too quiet and shaky, “I’ll drive up there.”

Keith gave him the name. “We’ll call if anything happens before you get here.”

“Thank- thank you. Please don’t blame yourself. This isn’t… it’s not new. He’s been depressed for a really long time. I guess I thought- thought he was doing better being at college and everything… He always shuts people out so it was sort of stupid- stupid of me. This isn’t even the first time he’s tried to… Thanks for being there for him, I’ll let you know when I’m in town.” Keith could hear Hunk choking on his words from sobbing he was clearly trying to muffle. He couldn’t decide if he was angrier or more hurt. 

Keith’s eyes were stinging by the time Hunk hung up. He held the phone in front of him, body tense while it decided whether to break down or break something. 

Why wouldn’t Lance have talked to them? Pidge had opened up about being trans, something that took her years to tell Shiro, someone she’d  _ grown up  _ with; Lance hadn’t known Adam died of  _ suicide,  _ but he knew Shiro lost someone very recently; Keith had told him about some of the worst foster experiences he had before Shiro’s family took him in, and Keith  _ never  _ talked about that stuff. Lance and he may have bickered a lot but… Keith had thought they were still close, still trusted each other. They had all grown close so quickly. Why didn’t Lance trust them as they trusted him? Trust Keith enough to…

He had to slide the phone into his pocket to keep from chucking it across the hallway. His chest hurt and his heart felt like it was trying to break out of his ribcage. His hand pressed against the wall, weight leaning into it for support why did it look so far away and why couldn’t he breathe everything was falling apart he always trusted people when he shouldn’t why did he do this 

“Keith?” a pressure on his arm helped a little but not enough, Pidge’s face was so fuzzy.

“You can’t, you can’t leave me. Do you hear me?” He grabbed her by her arms, his hands sliding down to her elbows before he could tighten his hold, “Don’t... race into fires to save, to save anyone or… risk your life just... Live, you have to, please. I can’t, I can’t,” he shook his head to stop his ears ringing. Was he crying?

Pidge definitely was crying, “I won’t, okay? I’m not going anywhere, promise.”

If he hadn’t been crying before, he definitely was now. And it was ugly, horrible sobs as he wrapped her in a tight hug. She was alive, she was here but it still wasn’t enough because one of his friends may not be alive much longer, wasn’t here-

“Okay, okay. Just breathe.” Pidge murmured, hand patting Keith’s back awkwardly.

 

-Hunk-

Hunk could hardly recall the drive over. Mostly he remembered thinking absentmindedly how for the first time he was grateful to not be at college. At least this way he could actually drive up to see his friend. Maybe actually get there before Lance… 

It was a blur otherwise. He probably shouldn’t have been driving at all but he didn’t have the presence of mind to really care at the time. There were no new messages when he finally arrived after four hours and he forced himself to remember that Keith had told him he’d call if anything new happened. Which meant Lance was still alive. 

Hunk called Lance’s number when he was in the hospital’s main lobby. His hands shook and for a moment he got this idea that Lance would pick up and everything leading up to this moment would have been a dream. Lance would laugh at the idea that anything bad could have happened to him and they’d grab lunch and Hunk would hear how great Lance’s college experience and friends were and try to not be too jealous. 

Lance was not the one who answered the phone. Hunk’s hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

“Hey, you’re Hunk, right?” A new voice asked. When Hunk confirmed, he was given directions on where to find everyone. 

The waiting room he was directed to was empty save for three people so they were fairly easy to spot. A small, dark-haired boy was asleep, hunched over in a chair in a way that made Hunk’s back hurt to look at. The girl with glasses and a tall, broad-shouldered guy stood up when they saw him.

“Hunk?” Pidge asked as he approached.

He nodded and wondered for a moment if they could tell he had sobbed the entire drive over. They looked like they’d been crying too so maybe it didn’t really matter.

“A doctor just stopped by to let us know that Lance is coming out of anesthesia right now. We should be able to see him soon.” The tall one said. Hunk couldn’t remember if he’d been told this guy’s name. 

“So… he’s going to be okay?” 

The guy nodded and suddenly Hunk was crying again and in the arms of a stranger. He didn’t even care. 

When Hunk was calmed down, he sat with their group. 

“They were asking some questions that none of us know the answer to. I couldn’t find any of what they were asking for in his things and none of us wanted to leave the hospital. Do you know anything about his insurance or what kinds of medications he might have been on? If he was seeing a therapist maybe?” Shiro asked. 

“I don’t know anything about his insurance. I do know he was on an anti-depressant and some kind of anti-anxiety. I think he might have been seeing a therapist here, but I don’t know names or anything. But if Lance is waking up, they’ll probably be able to ask him all those questions so I wouldn’t worry too much about it.” Hunk shrugged.

Keith stirred and Hunk fretted that it was his presence that woke the other. Hunk never slept soundly around strangers either. Purple eyes squinted at him, assessing if he was a threat. Most people took one look at him and could tell he wasn’t.

“Hunk?” Keith asked, but he didn’t seem to be asking Hunk for this confirmation, eyes focused somewhere over Hunk’s shoulder.

“Yeah, it’s him,” Shiro confirmed and Keith seemed to relax and then tense back up all over again, as he had just remembered why Hunk was a person he knew and why he must be here.

“You said… on the phone, you said this wasn’t the first time. What did you mean?” Keith leaned forward as his face changed to a scary intensity, voice shaky.

Hunk was taken aback by such an upfront question -he really hated thinking about this- but then he saw the way Pidge straightened up at Keith’s words and the desperation in Keith’s eyes. They were looking for some kind of reassurance. He wasn’t entirely sure the story could offer that but… 

“It was a little over a year ago. He skipped our senior homecoming and I was really upset about it because it was senior year and not at all like him. I had gotten a date, though, and he hadn’t and he kept joking about not wanting to the third wheel. I was kind of worried, because like I said, it was really not at all like Lance to skip a school dance. He just promised me he was looking forward to a night of pampering and boxed mac and cheese, so I let it go. I don’t know if it was premeditated or not…. I do know that he definitely had a plan, but I don’t think he was intending to do anything, um,  _ specifically _ that night? He’s kind of impulsive.

 “I left early because my date needed to get home. Around nine, Lance texted me that he loved me. He sent messages to everyone like that. ‘I love you,’ ‘know that you’re appreciated…’ He tried to OD. I think he stole one of his sibling’s meds. When he woke up the next morning… Well, he told his parents he was sick so he could skip church and tried again. I called him and I remember him complaining about having a splitting migraine and he sounded really out of it. I don’t think he even heard half of what I was talking about. I chalked it up the migraine. I didn’t even find out what was going on until a week later when he told me about it. He made me swear not to tell his parents, just kept promising me he was really grateful to have survived and it was a stupid decision and he sounded so sincere and just kept bawling so much that… I promised. As long as he started seeing a therapist, I wouldn’t tell. It was so  _ stupid  _ of me.” 

The others were quiet for a while after that. Hunk didn’t notice right away, but they were watching Shiro very closely. Hunk also didn’t notice how badly the other was trembling until Keith stood up to sit next to him. Keith settled a firm hand on Shiro’s shoulder and was saying something in a low voice that Hunk could only catch snippets of.

Shiro just kept shaking his head. “No! He would never have even  _ met  _ us. We’d never have known he existed. He made those stupid jokes about wanting to die all the time and I never said anything because you guys agreed and I knew you guys weren’t serious and I didn’t want to be the downer bringing up the- my- my dead boyfriend. I should have said something! I should have noticed because of Adam…  _ fuck,  _ Adam always did the same thing. And I kept thinking there were never any signs but he always told me how much he wanted to die and I just didn’t understand.”

Shiro was full-on ugly crying, near wailing. Hunk felt terrible even though he didn’t quite understand what the guy was talking about. Keith took Shiro by the hands and helped him out of the public waiting room, presumably to somewhere more private.

“It’s not your fault,” Pidge said quietly as Hunk stared after them. 

“What was he talking about?” Hunk murmured.

“His boyfriend OD’d last year. Probably two or so months before Lance made his attempt? The, uh… other one.” And Shiro’s the one who… found Lance. Found his boyfriend too. Honestly, I’m surprised he didn’t break down sooner. I think the parallels were just a bit overwhelming for him.” Pidge sighed quietly. 

“Oh.” 

“It’s not your fault,” Pidge said again.

“I know,” Hunk muttered, turning his phone over and over in his hands using the movement to distract himself enough to not cry again.

“He’s going to be okay. Shiro’s pre-med, so he did all the right things.” 

Hunk wondered if Pidge believed anything she was saying or if she was even thinking beyond a need to console. Hunk didn’t think he’d be thinking much in her situation. Couldn’t imagine actually  _ finding  _ a friend dying. 

“Surviving won’t make him value his life any more than he did,” Hunk found himself saying. Maybe he wasn’t thinking either.

“No, but it might give him the time to see the value.” 

 

-Lance-

Everything was fuzzy and overly bright. A stranger smiled down at him, something sad but it was already fading away into a heavy blink. When he managed to slide his eyelids back open, he was on an elevator. He was still groggy but his surroundings had regained their focus.

“Where’m I?” tongue too thick.

Someone informed him of the name of the hospital. They also told him their name, but he couldn’t recall it. 

While his bed rolled through the halls, he tried to recall how he’d ended up in a hospital. It didn’t take very long for that old sinking desperation to fall back into place under his skin. He failed.

Again.

Fuck.

  
  


Was seeing Shiro a dream? It couldn’t have been, he was pretty sure he had been at Shiro’s apartment when he- Oh God. 

How could he have done that? 

Everything was so overwhelming and he couldn’t breathe and that sting always made him breathe again but he hurt his friends. Made them try to save him when he didn’t want it. Left them a horrific mess to deal with.

Selfish-

 

“Lance? I need you to breathe, sweetie. Okay, you’re safe. We’re just going to count the colors right now. Can you focus on that? What color is my shirt?” Somebody, a new stranger, in his face again. 

He was losing track of time and his own life and that horrid panic that put him here in the first place was crawling up his throat stealing away his breath his life need it to stop

“What color is my shirt?” 

His eyes slid down from face to cloth, trying to focus on their words, “Blue.”

“What color is your blanket?”

“White?”

He recited quick answers to these questions one after another until the nurse was certain he wasn’t about to crawl out of his own skin. 

They asked him more questions. Medical record kind of questions. They asked if he wanted to see his friends. 

Lance told them yes, wanted to have the chance to apologize to all of them for putting them through that. 

Shiro and Hunk were the first two to enter the room. Lance hadn’t been prepared for Hunk at all. 

How had Hunk even known? Fuck. Hunk was probably so upset. He looked absolutely terrible, a complete wreck. 

Lance was positive he was the worst person alive. He forced himself to smile at Hunk anyways, “Hey, buddy. What’re you doing here?”

It was the wrong thing to say, apparently. 

Hunk’s jaw set as he settled at the foot of Lance’s bed. Shiro stood back, looking more haunted than Lance had ever seen him.

“Keith called me.” 

As if summoned, the other two entered the room. Pidge took the only chair and Keith stood awkwardly near the door. They were all just staring at him, almost waiting for some kind of explanation. 

He didn’t know how to explain. Last time had been easy, almost. At least then he genuinely thought he would never end up back in this place. He could tell Hunk with full confidence that it was no longer an issue. 

Was it ever really that simple?

It was too much energy that he didn’t have (still a bit dizzy on whatever drugs and painkillers he was likely pumped full of) to pretend to be perfectly fine. Especially when every single person in the room knew what a lie that was. Lance still couldn’t bear to meet any of their eyes, though. He glanced down at his arms. His left forearm was completely hidden in white gauze. His right arm held his IV. It pinched a bit (he’d never been fond of needles) and he wanted to pick at it. His left arm was so heavy though and his fingers barely twitched. 

Panic set in again. Had he done that much damage?

“My arm-” Lance said weakly, desperately. No thought remaining of how his friends may react to what he was saying. He was just so scared. 

Hunk frowned, eyes flicked down to Lance’s bandaged arm and there was a noticeable flinch. Shiro stepped forward. 

“We haven’t heard anything from the doctors yet about your arm. I’m the… the one that tied the tourniquet on it and I promise you I did it correctly so... um,” Shiro’s hands wrapped around Lance’s and he had never seen Shiro be so gentle with anything ever. “It’s likely just numb from your surgery and maybe there’s some minor damage. But if so you’ll just have physical therapy and… it’ll be okay.”

Lance looked up at Shiro, wondering if anyone believed what Shiro was saying. But Shiro needed Lance to understand Shiro had done everything he could so… Lance nodded and tried to breathe. 

What did it matter if his arm was dead anyway?

It’s not like he wanted to live again.

No, not supposed to think that. 

It was like smashing his head against a brick wall and thinking eventually he’d knock it down with nothing else. But it never worked. He just ended up hurt and the wall never fucking went away with his own strength.

“I… I need help, don’t I?” Lance breathed. 

“Yeah, buddy.” Hunk sighed. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are super appreciated. Sorry that I've been super offline lately. I know I keep promising updates and they're all coming just. Slowly. My motivation is sucky and I struggle with sticking with one thing at a time so everything gets really small sentences before I move on and nothing gets finished. I appreciate your patience.   
> Also I love me updating Voltron stuff and pretending the fandom isn't dead. Hey out there to you stragglers, love you all.  
> If you are struggling with the stuff in this story please reach out to someone. I personally am not in a place to be of much help, but there's lots of people out there who want and have the ability to help. There's always a good reason to live. I use my favorite shows and my plants as reasons right now and those kinds of small reasons are just as valid as any other reason. Please keep fighting, guys <3

**Author's Note:**

> Normally I'll leave encouraging notes at the end of these reminding you guys that there's a point to life and please take care of yourself because people care I care. And all of those things are super true... But I just can't be so upbeat right now. I'm too tired and I hate everything I write too much.  
> Sorry I'm so off rn and that this is what you guys get after months of not posting updates. I promise I'm still working on that content I just have been slugging through slowly.  
> Hope you're all having better holidays than I am <3


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